The Watcher
by Auror Lupin
Summary: After his death, Harry wanders around, watching those he had been close with durring his life and watches the events that play out and in the process find some sort of peace so he can leave.


A/N: I don't own anything you recognize. Please R/R!  
  
Prologue  
  
When you are dead, the normal limits of the human world do not hold true for you anymore. You have no conception of time or space, you are no longer three dimensional. You just are. There is no explaining you. You are a cold breeze in a warm room or a chill down someone's back.  
  
My name is Harry Potter. Though I probably should say it was when I was alive. I have no name now. In the blink of an eye I went from a living, breathing eighteen year old boy to a wandering mass of left over energy slinking around the places I used to call my home, watching the people who used to be my friends. Do I sound bitter? I certainly was for a while. I threw fit after fit, screaming and cursing and trying to make contact with anyone so long as they knew I was there. I was yearning for the world I was no longer a part of.  
  
I'm used to it now, I can come and go as I please and I can watch everyone carry on their lives and wait for the day that I will be reunited with them again. Because far above the hustling streets and every day problems of your world, there exists another unlike any in your wildest dreams.  
  
There is no pain, no suffering, and no confusion. That was why I had to wander around in the material world for such a long time. I was still confused and I was just one mass of spite and pain. Yet now, I am at peace with all the others who share the domain with me. And what a beautiful domain it is. Green grass grows regardless of seasonal change. A light, sparkling mist hangs high above our heads and fields full of flowers and trickling streams are about. Stone buildings with gigantic staircases are abundant and all over wander the souls of those departed from your world...  
  
But I seem to have gotten off track. I do that often, even when I was alive. Where was I? Oh yes. I'm sure you are all wondering by what heroic and tragic end did the boy who lived become reduced to nothingness. Well, it was not the extravagant and elaborate death you're thinking of. A simple spell from a simple wand hit me in the back caused me to just slump over, dead. I do admit it was quite a boring way to go. I was expecting to die in a duel with the Dark Lord or jump out of a flaming building. My death is still a blur to me though I have been told that it becomes clearer in time. I will get to that though.  
  
My funeral is my earliest recollection of what had happened after I died. I remember watching the scene play out, too stunned to do anything. And then of course I had screamed. Screamed at someone somewhere to fix this. I did not deserve to be dead! But few who's deaths come so swiftly deserve it. But by the time my funeral had come the next morning I was somewhat composed. I had spent the night staring at my body and trying to force my soul back into it. Throwing myself at the body time after time. My godfather, Sirius Black, had spent his first night as a free man in the chair across from the cold table on which my body lay the whole night. I had always figured that when he was free, Sirius would spend his first night recovering the rowdy boyhood youth that had all but been crushed out of him by the weight of the years he spent in Azkaban. I figured he'd be stone drunk in the course of an hour and I would have to drag him home.  
  
I had never seen him cry when I was alive. And to see a man who had been through so much in his life, so much pain and suffering that he did not deserve, sitting there with his shoulders shaking and crying over me was far too much. He blamed himself of course. He blamed himself for the death of my parents and now in his mind, he was the cause of their son's death. The son he had pledged blood and breath to protect. I couldn't even comfort him. I tried laying my hand on his shoulder but he took no notice. Remus Lupin, his one and only friend in the world had come in some time during the night. Though it might have been early morning. His eyes were lined with sorrow and guilt, making him look older than he usually did. It always bothered me that my parent's friends lived such awful lives, while mine was near perfect. He had laid a hand on Sirius' shoulder and tried to get him to leave, but Sirius would not. So he pulled up a chair next to his and sat with him in silence for the rest of the time.  
  
By the time of the funeral Sirius was more composed. He had laid his arm across Ginny's shoulders and pulled her against him as she sobbed louder than anyone there. I remember the way he had held her with such a dignity that I could hardly believe he was the same man who had spent the night before bawling his eyes out just like my Ginny was doing then. His hand had floated to her hair and he had smoothed it down with his hand as her tears soaked through his robes.  
  
My Ginny. I still find myself calling her that though she is not mine anymore.  
  
Anyway, the whole Weasley family had shown up and Sirius and Remus stood with them. Mrs. Weasley of course knew of them both. They were my friends and that meant that they too had to be fussed over. She and Mr. Weasley stood silent, side by side and listened to the service given for him. Charlie and Bill were there, standing straight backed next to each other in their black robes and remained silent through the whole thing. That didn't bother me as much as Fred and George staying quiet. When a tear slipped from Fred's eyes I almost died again if that was possible. I wanted to push them up to my grave and compel them to do something funny. To break up the somber mood. And then there was Ron, who had sunk to his knees half way through and had to be supported by Remus. I remember noticing how hard he was taking it and if I had a heart it would have been wrenched at the sight of his tear stained face.  
  
Next there was Hermione, trying to look composed for the sake of those around her. But I saw her shoulders shaking and her father and mother with hands keeping her up. She and Ginny had both dropped roses into my open coffin. Hermione had whispered that she had always loved me. Then, she turned around and let with her parents. I was proud that she held herself through the service only to go home and cry herself to sleep. Hermione would never cry in front of people.  
  
My professor's were there as well. McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, even Snape which surprised me more than anything. In all my years at Hogwarts, Snape had made it his personal goal to make my life as miserable as he possibly could. I always figured he would get drunker than Sirius as a free man if I had ever died. Yet he stood, the lines in his face relaxed and paid attention through the service. He even walked up and kneeled at the coffin when it was over.  
  
The thing that surprised me the most though, was that Draco Malfoy stood a step behind the circle, his cloak pulled over his head. This made me think...if Malfoy had died and I had lived, would I go to his funeral? Yes. I would. Underneath all the feelings of hate jealousy and anger, there was an underlying respect that I had been unaware of when I was alive. Apparently, Draco had it too. After watching him I realized what a shame it was that we had hated each other so deeply. We could have made good allies, but he bore the dark mark. Looking at him that day I could not possibly think about the events that would be played out within the next weeks involving him.  
  
I still can't believe them and it's been a few years. But like I said, time doesn't matter much to me. After the crowd had paid their last respects and left, I stayed and watched them lower my casket into the ground and cover it up with dirt before leaving. They did not understand the significance of what they had just done. For them it was just another job but for me it was sealing my fate. I was dead and nothing could change that now. I was dead just like my parents whose graves sat on the side of mine. I was dead and nothing would change that.  
  
It sounds quite depressing huh? Well it was for quite a while but I discovered what the dead do with most of their time. They watch the living and that's what I took to doing. And I learned some pretty funny things about the human species just by watching the lives of people I had known. 


End file.
